


Five Times Coward Knew He Was Destined for Greatness

by misura



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: 5 Things, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Think of what it might have felt like if you'd done the deed yourself," Blackwood said softly, and Coward could not recall having invited the man in, let alone offer him a chair, but there were guards at the door, so clearly, he must have done so. "Taking a human life."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Coward Knew He Was Destined for Greatness

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Blackwood/Coward, plans for taking over the world_ (deathsblood)

.01

"Home Secretary," Blackwood said, settling down in the chair Coward had already identified as the most comfortable one in the office - _his_ office, now. It was a nice, gratifyingly big one. 

Of course, he'd worked hard for this. "Yes." He deserved this promotion, and everything that came with it. The money. The power. The _respect_.

"It's a nice title," Blackwood said, sounding like an adult dutifully admiring a young child's schoolwork.

Coward narrowed his eyes. "What are you implying?" Blackwood had always been arrogant, and rightly so, Coward supposed. Blackwood was a powerful practitioner, and a peer of the realm, besides.

On the other hand, it wasn't as if he held any sort of position comparable to that of, say, Home Secretary. A mundane, purely political kind of title, perhaps, but the power it represented was real enough. Coward was in a position to accomplish things, now.

"What do you think I'm implying?" Blackwood asked. His faint smile seemed to be mocking Coward, calling him out as a fool.

"I think you should leave," Coward said coldly. "Now."

Blackwood remained seated, studying him for what felt like a full five minutes before he rose. Coward felt a drop of sweat trickling down his back. He kept his face impassive, though, or hoped he did.

"We will speak again, no doubt," Blackwood said, again with that mocking smile. "Soon."

 

.02

Signing a warrant for a man's arrest sent a new energy coursing through Coward's veins. On most days he only got one, or none at all - on a few days, he got several.

The only thing better was to sign a warrant for a man's execution. He got to do _that_ for the first time after two months in the office, and as the ink flowed out of his pen, he could feel the mystical energy connected with the death gather and flow into his hand, up to his arm ...

It was, of course, a very serious matter, to pronounce a man's life forfeit. Not a matter lightly done, not at all. There was cause though, reason. A verdict, already passed.

He considered attending the execution, but decided against it in the end. Too morbid. Unbefitting a man of his stature and position.

"Think of what it might have felt like if you'd done the deed yourself," Blackwood said softly, and Coward could not recall having invited the man in, let alone offer him a chair, but there were guards at the door, so clearly, he must have done so. "Taking a human life."

Coward had heard the rumors. "Hardly human," he said. His mouth was dry. "More animal, a mere beast, undeserving of mercy." He'd dutifully read the file that had come with the warrant. It had disgusted him, to read of a human being sinking to such depravity. He could not imagine how anyone would be able to perform such deeds in cold blood. (A small part of him wanted to, though. Wanted to _understand_. A purely academic interest, he reassured himself.)

"Cattle," Blackwood said. "The city's full of them. Useless beings living pointless, little lives."

"Not completely useless, surely," Coward said. "Assuming the rumors about your powers are true."

"Well." Blackwood smiled, and there was only a small hint of mockery in it this time. "That's rather a large assumption to make, isn't it?"

 

.03

By rights, Coward thought, it should have been Blackwood bent over the desk - _his_ very fine, very big desk, in _his_ office.

The fact that it wasn't rankled. It _itched_ , this maddening desire to be someone more, to get to become the person Coward knew he had a right to be. Blackwood had promised him power, and to show him the means to get more, but Blackwood was the one pinning him to his desk right now.

Unlike Coward, his breathing was still steady, as if he was hardly exerting himself at all. Possibly he wasn't, and that would hardly do at all, would it?

Sex was an old a gateway to power as blood, true. Coward had been slightly surprised Blackwood would ask it of him, would use _that_ kind of ritual as well as the ones that had resulted in the small stack of reports in a forgotten drawer of his desk.

It was _intimate_ \- or he'd thought, before. For all the emotion that Blackwood showed, he might as well be by himself, getting a somewhat boring but necessary chore over and done with.

"Damn you to hell."

Blackwood chuckled, and Coward felt a small surge of triumph at having gotten a small display of emotion, at least. "After you, my dear Lord Home Secretary. After you."

Coward would have replied to that, and sharply, but Blackwood chose that exact moment to reach around him, and for all that the rest of him seemed cold, his hand, at least, was warm, and seemed to know quite well how to bring things to a head.

(After he'd spent himself, Coward finally heard Blackwood's breath catch as well. It was nearly enough to bring him back to the brink again.)

 

.04

It almost seemed unreal: first, the interrupted ritual, then the news of Blackwood's arrest and subsequent trial before, finally, the verdict. Death.

Coward's own power was still there, stronger than it had been before. He dared not add to it further, without Blackwood. Given Holmes's reputation, it seemed a small miracle already that he had escaped without notice.

He felt nothing upon signing Blackwood's warrant. A faint regret, perhaps, but nothing like the sort of power bringing about the end of the existence of a practitioner of Blackwood's stature ought to have set free. At the moment itself, he barely noticed, although afterwards, he wondered.

They informed him of Blackwood's last words: _'death is only the beginning'_ , and that was when he felt the first stirring of hope, of _belief_.

Of course the most powerful practitioner since Merlin himself could not be disposed of so easily by mere mortal men.

When some bumbling inspector by the name of Lestrade came to inform him that Blackwood's tomb seemed to have been opened from the inside, it actually took an effort to look surprised, and to keep the joy off his face.

 

.05

Looking around the crowded room, at the men who were supposed to be his peers, Coward wondered how he could ever have been satisfied with something so small, to look at men such as these and consider them his equals, if not his superiors.

At least the cattle outside was good for _something_.

Well. No need to get too worked up about any of that anymore; in less than fifteen minutes, it would all be over and a new world order would have been born. Parliament would cease to exist, making place for something better, with better men.

Blackwood would lead, no doubt, but he could hardly be expected to do everything by himself. Who better than Coward to delegate to?

The hands of the clock crawled forewards, closer and closer to the midday hour, as Coward forced himself to relax and closed his eyes for a moment, to picture the blissful days to come.


End file.
